


Guys Like Us

by thesmallchameleon



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, I love that there's a legitimate tag for that, Light Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Post-Canon, Post-Squip, Scars, because it's super minor and it always frustrates me, boyf riends — Freeform, but only in like, feelings jam in the blanket pile, just a heck ton of emotions in general, like a lot of crying, not gonna tag this f/f, same goes for the minor ships in here, squip squad, the epilogue, when I'm looking for f/f and it's just background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesmallchameleon/pseuds/thesmallchameleon
Summary: The SQUIP was gone. Jeremy apologized. Michael saved him. Everything was supposed to be back to normal.But it wasn't.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael was in heaven. He was lounging on his bean bag chair in the basement, Morgan Heritage blasting in his headphones, snacking on salt and vinegar potato chips with a bottle of Pepsi blue his supplier had gotten imported from Indonesia by his side. Well, almost heaven. To make the afternoon perfect, he'd need some weed and some games with his best... 

 

Michael glanced over at the empty bean bag that he hadn't had the heart to move despite Jeremy's absence from his basement for the past couple of months. His spirits sank as he stared at the empty space. Suddenly, the upbeat reggae blasting in his ears seemed to be mocking him with its carefree rhythms and melodies. He turned off his mp3 player and took his headphones off, letting them rest around his neck instead. 

 

The SQUIP was gone. Jeremy apologized. Michael saved him. Everything was supposed to be back to normal. 

 

Michael lay back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, setting his snacks on the floor next to him and resting his hands on his stomach. He was happy for Jeremy. He really was. He had friends now, aside from Michael, and a hobby, and a girlfriend. He _was_ happy for him. And Jeremy was talking to him again. Anything was better than the weeks spent alone, barely going into the basement to do anything he enjoyed, spending an alarming amount of time in bed, staring into space. But still, he couldn't deny that there was a part of him, a _small_ part, he assured himself, that was jealous. 

 

For a moment he was back in the bathroom at Jake's Halloween party. 

 

"Really? Because I think you're pissed that I have one and you don't!" 

 

Michael shook his head, putting the memory away. It came up less and less nowadays, but something told him that that wasn't a moment he would ever forget, as much as he wanted to. 

 

But no, he wasn't jealous of Jeremy for having a social life. Michael's gut twisted as he acknowledged the little selfish part of his brain that wanted Jeremy to himself. There was a time when he was the only one Jeremy had, and Michael knew that that wasn't enough for him. But even so, he still longed for the endless days doing nothing in particular together. The stupid sleepovers that ended up with them staying awake all through the night and then sleeping through a good portion of the next day. He missed when Jeremy would text him whenever he was worried or stressed or just bored, and Michael could help him. 

 

But he guessed Jeremy had other friends for that now. 

 

Michael closed his eyes, not bothering to take his glasses off. Being lonely was surprisingly exhausting. He figured this is how Jeremy must have felt for forever before the SQUIP incident, when he only had Michael who wasn't enough. Never enough. 

 

Michael woke to the sensation of someone removing his glasses. His eyes flew open and the blurry figure standing above him froze. He laughed awkwardly. 

 

"Woops. Thought you were asleep." 

 

Jeremy handed his glasses back to him and Michael put them on, sitting up leisurely and pretending he wasn't incredibly surprised that Jeremy was here with him instead of out with his other friends. 

 

"It's cool," Michael said with a casual grin. "I was, actually." 

 

Jeremy nodded, still standing in front of him. There was an awkward pause. That was a new thing that Michael still wasn't used to. Sure they used to run out of things to say and there would be lulls in conversation, but it was never awkward. Back then if no one was saying anything it was because there was nothing to say. Now, silence meant that there was something going unsaid. 

 

"I, uh, rang the doorbell," Jeremy said, standing stock-still but not stiffly, "I figured you were listening to music when you didn't respond, so I came in anyway. And then you were asleep but you were still wearing your glasses and one day you're going to break them so I--" 

 

"Dude," Michael cut him off, his smile more genuine this time from hearing a little bit of the old Jeremy slip back, "It's cool." 

 

"Right," Jeremy said, his mouth twitching into a half-smile. 

 

Michael gestured to Jeremy's bean bag chair, a little disheartened that Jeremy felt he needed to be invited at all. He sat down slowly, not slouching in the objectively unattractive way that bean bag chairs were meant to be sat on, but instead with a straight back and his arms resting on his knees. Michael took off the headphones that had been draped around his neck and set them on the ground, rubbing at the sore skin where they had been wedged between him and the bean bag. 

 

"Is something wrong, man?" Michael asked, though he didn't really have to. Even after the SQUIP he could still read Jeremy easier than the _Zombies Ate My Neighbors_ strategy guide he's had since fourth grade. 

 

There was a moment of hesitation before Jeremy shook his head, a false smile on his lips that didn't quite meet his eyes. 

 

"I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit," he said. "If you, uh, want to. Of course." 

 

Michael stood up and stretched briefly before going over to the TV and turning it on. He grabbed the two controllers from the TV stand and tossed one to Jeremy with a grin. 

 

"When do I not?" 

 

They played in near silence, with only explosions and other sound effects filling the room. It wasn't a bad silence, though. Michael glanced at Jeremy and noted the way he bit his tongue and squinted his eyes as he concentrated every bit of his attention on the game. He was glad to see that at least his video game-playing mannerisms hadn't changed unlike most everything else. 

 

They were a little off kilter, not falling back into their positions as player 1 and player 2 as easily as they once had. But still, Michael found himself having fun, especially as Jeremy's posture slowly began to relax. Every moment spend cleaving virtual zombies seemed to make him seem a little more alive, a little more like the Jeremy he once knew. Michael kept stealing glances at him, but Jeremy was too invested in the game to notice. 

 

Michael heard an explosion from the TV and turned back just in time to see his character blow himself up with his own grenade. Woops. 

 

Jeremy snorted. Michael felt something lift from his chest with that little, unattractive noise. 

 

Determined, he waited to re-spawn before making his character do a stupid little dance in time to the soundtrack, just going back and forth at first, then making him spin around in circles wildly. 

 

Jeremy gave a short laugh. 

 

"Dude, what are you doing?" 

 

"Hm, I think I'm doing this guy," Michael said, walking up so that his character was right up against the side of an NPC. "Oh, oh, sex noise, sex noise." 

 

Jeremy burst out laughing, actually throwing his head back a bit. Michael's face broke into a wide smile. 

 

"You're so stupid," Jeremy said, between gasps. It was pretty stupid, but it was never very hard to make Jeremy laugh. Not for Michael at least. 

 

"You love me," Michael said, falling back into old habits of casual banter instead of treading carefully. He flopped backwards over the bean bag so that he was looking at Jeremy upside-down. 

 

"Yeah, yeah." Jeremy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He reached over and mussed Michael's hair. For a moment, everything was like it used to be. Just the two of them, having a good time. 

 

Then suddenly, it was over. Jeremy flinched and sat up straight, turning his attention back to the game on the screen though his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Michael frowned, but sat up as well, determined not to mention it. They played for a while longer, slowly working together better and better until they started flying through levels the way they used to. 

 

After an hour or so, Jeremy's phone rang. Michael paused the game and watched Jeremy dig his phone out of his pocket. 

 

"Shit," he said, looking at the screen. He answered the call. "Hey Dad. Sorry, I lost track of time." 

 

Michael glanced at his watch. It was half-past midnight. Jeremy had been over for much longer than he had thought. Or he slept much longer than he thought. He guessed he skipped dinner. Woops. 

 

"No, I'm hanging out with Michael actually," Jeremy was saying. Michael glanced over at the mention of his name. He couldn't quite make out what Mr. Heere was saying, but he could hear his stern tone. 

 

"Yeah, sure," Jeremy said. He put the phone on speaker and held it flat in the air, speaking to Michael suddenly. "Say hi." 

 

"Hey Mr. Heere!" Michael said, a little confused, but happy to play along. 

 

"Hello Michael," said Jeremy's dad. "How are you, son?" 

 

"I'm good." 

 

"Good to hear," he said. "Listen, Michael, could you give Jeremy a ride home? I don't want him walking around at this time of night." 

 

Michael looked at Jeremy, eyebrows raised. Jeremy shrugged. 

 

"Sure," Michael said. Jeremy brought the phone towards his face. 

 

"We'll be there in five," he said, before switching it off of speaker. Mr. Heere said something else, and from the way Jeremy rolled his eyes and said "you too," Michael assumed it was "I love you," or something along those lines. 

 

Michael stood up and turned off the TV as Jeremy hung up. 

 

"What was that about?" Michael asked. Jeremy's dad had never called to ask for him home in the past, and he never said anything about Jeremy being out and about late at night. Michael glanced behind him to see Jeremy standing up and stretching casually, rolling his head to relieve the tension from a long evening of sitting around. 

 

"I've got a curfew now," Jeremy said. "My dad's actually taking this being a responsible parent thing seriously, so he's getting all picky about where I am and when I get home." 

 

"Sounds annoying," Michael said, even though it didn't. He couldn't remember the last time his parents came to check on him even while he was in his own house. 

 

"Not really," Jeremy said, his mouth twitching. "We'll see how long it lasts though." 

 

The ride to Jeremy's house was quiet, but not silent. Michael didn't feel that nervous twisting in his stomach that always came with trying to come up with something to say. When he looked over at Jeremy at a red light, he didn't seem nervous either. He just looked tired. 

 

When Michael pulled up in front of Jeremy's house, he didn't immediately get out. He looked out the window for a moment, at his own front door. He opened his mouth, then closed it, a vaguely troubled look on his face. Then he undid his seatbelt. 

 

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Michael said. 

 

Jeremy looked over at him with a small smile and sad eyes. 

 

"Of course," he said, though nothing followed. Another moment passed, then he opened the door and stepped out. Before he closed the door, he paused and turned back towards Michael. 

 

"Thank you," he said, bracing one hand on the car door and the other on the roof, "I don't know what I did to deserve you." 

 

He closed the door before Michael could respond, but even if he hadn't, he wouldn't know what to say. Michael just sat there, blinking stupidly as he watched Jeremy go up to the front door and go inside. Then he spent another minute staring at the closed door. Then he turned on the ignition and started home. 

 

There was something odd about Jeremy now. Some element of sadness that never quite seemed to dissipate. As Michael drove, something occurred to him for the first time. He spent a good portion of every day worrying that Jeremy didn't want to be around him anymore. What if Jeremy felt the same?


	2. Chapter 2

Jeremy used to always sit with Michael at lunch. And now Michael knew that it was because he didn't have anyone else to sit with before. Now he had a girlfriend, and Michael totally understood that that took priority. Jeremy had been wanting Christine for forever. He deserved the chance to finally spend time with her. 

 

So when Jeremy tentatively sat down next to Michael at their once-usual table in the corner, it was all Michael could do to not show his surprise. 

 

"Hey," Michael said after swallowing his sushi. "Why aren't you with Christine?" 

 

Jeremy twitched, but tried to play it off. 

 

"Just wanted to spend some time with you, dude," he said. 

 

Michael watched as Jeremy started poking at his salad from the school cafeteria. Since when did Jeremy eat salad? He guessed it was just another one of those things that changed about him. 

 

"Did something happen with you and Christine?" Michael asked. They had only been dating for two weeks, but they had been spending quite a lot of time together. Maybe too much time? 

 

Jeremy hesitated, telling Michael that he was right on the money. 

 

"No, we're cool," Jeremy said, his face reddening in the way it always did when he was nervous about something. Michael sighed. He wasn't sure why Jeremy was lying, but whatever it was he would find out eventually. Probably. 

 

"If you say so," Michael said, stuffing another piece of sushi in his mouth. Jeremy looked over at Michael, realized he wasn't buying it, and gave him a small smile. 

 

"Look, don't worry about it," he said. "I'm fine. I just mis--" 

 

He stopped abruptly and drew in a sharp breath before clamping his mouth shut. Michael frowned. Jeremy returned to poking at his salad. 

 

"You sure you're OK?" 

 

"Of course." Jeremy gave him a plastic smile, then abruptly changed the topic. "What have you been up to today?" 

 

Michael didn't want to drop it. He wanted to figure out what was up with him, what was making him so upset, what he could do to fix it, but he wasn't sure if that was his place anymore. Once, he could pester Jeremy about something like this for a day or two and he would open up. Then Michael would talk it through with him and show him that the situation really wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. But now, if all Michael could provide was a distraction from whatever was bothering him, that would have to be enough. 

 

He launched into a description of what he learned that morning in Astronomy, and was glad to find that by the end of lunch, Jeremy's smile was real. Tentative, but real. 

 

The bell rang and Michael stood, closing his empty plastic container. Before he could throw it away, though, Jeremy grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie. Michael paused and gave him a curious look. 

 

"Do you... want to come over after school?" Jeremy asked, eyes flitting nervously as if he actually expected Michael to turn him down. 

 

"Sure you're not just trying to get a ride home?" Michael asked, his voice teasing. 

 

Jeremy laughed stiffly. 

 

"You caught me." 

 

"Of course I want to," Michael said. "But right now I've gotta get to class." 

 

He nodded at Jeremy's hand which was still clutching at Michael's sleeve. Jeremy immediately let go with a sheepish look, then sort of flinched in a way that made something in Michael's stomach sink. It seemed Jeremy was always flinching these days. Michael could only guess that it had something to do with the SQUIP. He wished he could make Jeremy understand that he didn't have to live up to anybody or anything's expectations anymore, but there was only so much he could do. 

 

"I'll meet you in the student parking lot after class." 

 

When the last bell of the day finally rang, Michael grabbed his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. He was making his way towards the student parking lot when a voice called out to him. 

 

"Michael!" 

 

He stopped, confused, and turned to see Rich running towards him. For a moment, Michael felt the hairs on his arms stand on end and every muscle in body tense up. He forced himself to relax, putting a casual smile on his face. This wasn't the Rich he used to know--the Rich who made a joke out of Michael's sexuality, whether or not he knew it; the Rich who would torment Jeremy until he came to Michael with tears in his eyes-- that wasn't the real Rich. If Michael could forgive Jeremy, he would have to learn to forgive him as well. 

 

"What's up?" Michael asked when Rich caught up, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation and failing. "I'm surprised you know my name." 

 

Rich waved him off, his other hand holding onto the strap of his backpack. He was wearing a tank-top, revealing the red scarring blotting his arms and the side of his neck. Of all of the people who were once SQUIPed, Rich somehow managed to come out of it giving less of a shit about what people thought of him than anyone else, despite having had it the longest. Michael had to admire that about him, even if part of him still rejected the idea of being friendly with him. 

 

"Jeremy talks about you all the time," he said offhandedly. Michael's chest warmed with surprise, but if he did anything to show it, Rich didn't notice. "Speaking of, could you make sure he's OK? I haven't heard from him since he and Christine broke up." 

 

Michael froze. 

 

"Since... they broke up?" he repeated. Rich stared at him curiously for a moment, then his eyes widened. 

 

"You didn't know?" he said, disbelief in his voice. "She broke up with him last Friday." 

 

Last Friday. That was an entire week ago. And for some reason, Jeremy hadn't told him. Michael felt his throat tighten. Jeremy told his new friends, but it seemed he didn't trust Michael anymore. That was... his decision, Michael guessed. He couldn't force Jeremy to talk to him. 

 

"Oh," Michael said eventually, not quite sure what else there was to say. Rich sighed and shifted his weight to the other foot. 

 

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry you had to find out from me, but could you check on him? Or at least ask him to text me back. We think he's been avoiding us since it happened, and you're his closest friend. Everyone's just a little worried." 

 

Michael nodded. 

 

"Of course," he said, then realized he sounded more confident then he was. "Or at least, I'll try. I can't promise he'll talk to me, but if he does I'll let you know I guess?" 

 

"Thanks man," Rich said, half of his mouth turning into a smile. "See you around." 

 

Michael watched as Rich did finger-guns at him, then turned around and headed back down the hall. He shook his head, the experience of the guy who once vandalized his backpack being all chummy towards him still a little surreal. But he could get passed that, especially if the matter at hand concerned Jeremy. 

 

Jeremy was waiting by Michael's car when he got there. He was leaning against the side of the cruiser, scrolling through something on his phone, and didn't notice when Michael walked up to him. 

 

"Looking at porn?" Michael joked. Jeremy visibly jumped and immediately put his phone down. 

 

"No!" he said quickly, his face twitching slightly. Michael frowned. If Jeremy had actually been looking at porn, he would have been embarrassed and his entire face would have gone red. But he wasn't blushing. Instead he seemed almost paler than usual, if that was even possible. He looked... afraid. "I was digging through school emails." 

 

"Chill Jere, I was just kidding," Michael knocked his arm gently, mostly just to make some sort of contact with him. Jeremy laughed nervously. 

 

"I know." He put his phone in his pocket. Michael slid into the driver's seat and buckled his seatbelt, waiting for Jeremy to do the same. Jeremy sat down and closed the door, then looked at him expectantly. A moment passed. Michael raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Seatbelt?" he prompted. Jeremy twitched again. 

 

"Shit. Sorry." He immediately went to buckle his seatbelt. 

 

 _Are you OK? Why do you seem so distant? Why do you keep flinching? Are you afraid of me? Do you not trust me?_

 

Michael turned the ignition and ignored the questions swimming through his head. 

 

For the first few minutes of the drive, there was silence. Jeremy was staring out the window. Michael kept looking over at him, wondering how to breach the subject of Christine. Should he even bring her up? If Jeremy had not told him about her for a week, maybe he didn't want him to know. 

 

"They've got, uh, The Magic School Bus on Netflix," Jeremy said suddenly. "I know it's not VHS like you have and that we never watch that stuff sober but..." 

 

"I am always down for children's educational television," Michael said seriously. Jeremy snorted. 

 

_"Jere. I want," Michael paused, staring at Jeremy's mouth for a moment as he took a pull from his joint, "to watch some weird science shit."_

_Smoke streamed from between Jeremy's lips and he blinked, apparently processing what Michael said._

_"Yeah..." High Jeremy was never much of a conversationalist._

_Michael looked around for the remote to put on the Discovery Channel, but it wasn't in the immediate vicinity. That. Was a shame. He stood up to see if the higher vantage point would make it easier to find. He surveyed the area. Apparently not. Michael did, however, spot the dusty row of VHS tapes on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf in the corner that mostly held video games and strategy guides. Maybe there was a documentary in there._

_He went over to the shelf and squatted in front of it. It took him a few minutes before he realized that they were all children's shows. Oh. Right._

_"Hell. Yes," he said, pulling a Bill Nye tape off of the shelf. He stood and turned, holding up the tape for Jeremy to see. "Science."_

_"Yeah..." Jeremy pointed at him._

 

Michael parked in front of Jeremy's house even though the driveway was empty. Walking up to the house, Michael suddenly realized that he hadn't been here since before all of the business with the SQUIP. It was bizarre, realizing that it had been months since he stepped inside the place he once spent almost as much time in as his own house. Then he realized that Jeremy showing up in his basement the other day was the first time he had been in Michael's house as well. 

 

Michael watched as Jeremy unlocked the front door. 

 

"Where's your dad?" he asked. The door swung open and Jeremy stepped inside. Michael followed. 

 

"Work," Jeremy said. "He should be home around five." 

 

Michael paused for only a moment in the entryway as he and Jeremy took off their shoes and left them by the door. The Heere household felt different. Everything was neater in a way that was hard to describe. And it smelled different. Not bad different, but different. 

 

"He's really trying," Michael said under his breath. If Jeremy heard, he pretended not to notice. Michael followed him into the living room where they both dropped their backpacks on the floor. 

 

"Do you want some, uh, popcorn or something?" Jeremy asked, wincing at his own words for some reason. 

 

"Sure," Michael said. "I can set up the show if you want?" 

 

Jeremy froze for a moment, then nodded. Michael watched his retreating form as he went into the kitchen. It took him a few minutes to figure out where everything was, but he had Netflix up on the TV before Jeremy was back from the kitchen. He sat down again. He took his phone out of his pocket to play tetris or something, then paused. The smell of burning popcorn was coming from the kitchen. 

 

Michael pushed himself to his feet and went to the kitchen to see Jeremy facing away from him. 

 

"Everything OK buddy?" Jeremy flinched violently. 

 

"Yeah. Yes. Everything's great," he said quickly, not turning around. "The, uh, popcorn burned. So I'm doing it again. You can go back." 

 

Michael said nothing for a moment. 

 

"Okay," he said eventually, worry only building in his stomach. He went back to the living room and sat on the couch. A few minutes later, Jeremy was there with a bowl of popcorn, sitting next to him and starting up a random episode. 

 

At first, Michael kept looking at Jeremy who was sitting stiffly, back straight and leaving a good foot of space between them on the couch. A few minutes in, however, Jeremy caught him looking and a few seconds of awkward eye-contact had Michael turning his full attention to the show. 

 

If Michael was being honest, watching The Magic School Bus sober was not exactly his idea of an exciting afternoon. And if he knew Jeremy, it wasn't really his either. It was, however, a show Michael was obsessed with as a kid, and one that they did watch sometimes when Michael was high or on the rare occasion that Jeremy decided to join him as well. So Jeremy was trying to connect. That much was clear. Perhaps then, Michael thought, he should be trying a little harder as well. 

 

"Hey Jere?" Michael said, forcing himself to keep his eyes trained on the TV. Jeremy hummed. "Rich wanted me to ask you to text him back. He's been worried about you." 

 

Jeremy was silent. Michael gave up trying to pretend that the comment was offhanded and turned towards him. His eyes had widened marginally and his jaw was set. 

 

"Jeremy, buddy," Michael said, cautiously taking Jeremy's tense hand and holding it in his own. "Everyone's been worried. I. I've been really worried. You're not acting like yourself." 

 

Jeremy seemed frozen in time, eyes wide, lips pressed together in a thin line. His hand felt like stone, cold and stiff. He barely seemed to breathe. 

 

"Is this about Christine?" Michael prompted gently. 

 

Suddenly Jeremy spluttered, his free hand going to cover his mouth. 

 

"Jeremy?" 

 

His breaths were coming quickly now, like they were being pulled out of him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were wide and leaking. Michael watched in shock as his best friend became a ragdoll, the hand between his own becoming limp. 

 

"Buddy, slow down," he said, placing one hand on his shoulder. 

 

"Can't," Jeremy managed to spit out, between gasps. It was only then that Michael recognized what was happening. 

 

This was a panic attack. Michael knew panic attacks. He took Jeremy's arm and draped it around his neck, pulling Jeremy to his feet. 

 

"Come on, Jere, we're going to walk around." Jeremy didn't respond, but allowed Michael to lead him away from the couch and towards the hall. They went slowly, as Jeremy continued to hyperventilate, down the hall, then around and back the other way. 

 

"Everything's going to be fine, man. We're just gonna keep walking." 

 

It took seven or eight laps back and forth before Jeremy's breathing started to slow again, and even then it was gradual. When it was close to normal, Michael led him back towards the living room and helped him sit on the couch. 

 

Jeremy looked awful. His hand had fallen away from his face, revealing a trail of mucus coming from his nose. His skin was red, and thin tear tracts ran down either cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, visibly exhausted. 

 

Michael sat down next to him and Jeremy curled up against him, pressing his face into Michael's chest and grabbing lightly at his hoodie. Michael wrapped his arms around him firmly, but gently, and waited, listening to him breathe. Slow and steady. Michael closed his eyes. 

 

They just sat there, breathing together, one of Michael's hands set on Jeremy's back, the other against the back of his head, tangled in his hair, for a long time. 

 

Then, after what felt like forever, Jeremy pulled away, covering the bottom half of his face with his hand again, this time, presumably, to hide the snot. 

 

Michael let one hand linger on the side of Jeremy's head for a moment. Then he stood. Jeremy glanced up at him, a flash of fear in his eyes. Michael touched his shoulder, immediately aware of his mistake. 

 

"I'm just getting you some water," he assured, "and some tissues." 

 

Jeremy nodded weakly after a moment, hand still hovering in front of his mouth and nose. Michael went as quickly as he could, filling up a cup of water in the kitchen, then grabbing a box of tissues from the bathroom. When he returned, Jeremy hadn't moved at all, but seemed to relax when Michael came into view. 

 

He set the glass of water on the side table next to Jeremy and sat close to him, their sides pressed together. Jeremy blew his nose, then cleaned his face and hands, piling the used tissues beside the cup of water. 

 

"Drink," Michael prompted, when Jeremy was done. He took the glass in his hands and took a tentative sip before eagerly downing the rest of it. Jeremy set the empty glass back on the table and then leaned back, closing his eyes as exhaustion overtook his body. Michael watched his chest as it rose and fell, a deep sadness rooted in his own. This was almost the most broken Michael had ever seen his friend, second only to the time he spent in the hospital after the play. He took Jeremy's hand and traced it softly with his fingertips. 

 

"Please talk to me," he said softly, forcing down the lump in his throat. 

 

For a moment, Jeremy said nothing, not even moving to acknowledge that he had heard. When he did speak, his voice was thin. 

 

"OK."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a person who has had panic attacks and hyperventilated, I hope I gave an accurate representation of what that's like. The interesting thing was I found it a lot harder than I thought to describe what was happening from an outside perspective. Anyways.
> 
> I finished this chapter last night but it was really late so I figured it was better to leave it to read over in the morning before posting. 
> 
> You've all been super nice about the first chapter! I hope I've met your expectations. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Jeremy was silent for several minutes, and Michael got the impression that there was a storm of indecision and reluctance swirling in his head. An idea struck him. 

 

"You know what we need?" Jeremy turned his head towards Michael. "Hot chocolate." 

 

Jeremy's mouth turned into a smile and Michael grinned. 

 

"Come on Jere-bear. Let's build a fort in your room. If you get a bunch of blankets and pillows and shit, I'll make us some cocoa." 

 

Jeremy nodded and stood. Michael watched him go slowly towards the hall before releasing a worried sigh and heading towards the kitchen himself. Luckily, the Heeres hadn't changed where they kept their cocoa and marshmallows, so the process was easy. He went about heating up the milk as he had done countless times before, on rainy days and bad days, or whenever Jeremy needed a pick-me-up. When it started to steam, Michael grabbed the Player 1 and Player 2 mugs that he had gotten for Jeremy as a half-joke Christmas present a couple of years back and poured in the milk. In went the cocoa mix, then a quick but thorough stir for each mug, and a probably absurd amount of mini marshmallows on top. 

 

Michael carried the mugs cautiously down the hall to Jeremy's room, glad to see that he had left the door cracked so that he didn't have to figure out how to open it with no hands. He hooked his foot around the door and pulled it open a bit wider so that he could fit through. Michael was greeted with the objectively adorable, and somewhat pitiful scene of Jeremy sitting in the center of the floor of his room, surrounded by blankets and pillows and looking a tad lost. Michael placed the mugs on Jeremy's desk and helped him to his feet before leading the architecture of perhaps the most disastrous blanket fort they had ever constructed. It ended up being just a sheet draped from Jeremy's desk to the end of his bed with a shit ton of blankets and pillows left over for burying themselves in. Michael grabbed the mugs as Jeremy situated himself in the "fort," then followed suit. 

 

The light blue sheet stretched above their heads was thin, making the space underneath it only a few shades darker than the surrounding room. Jeremy sat, wrapped in his favorite fuzzy blue blanket, looking drained, but more present and determined than before. Michael handed him his cocoa. 

 

"Thanks," Jeremy said, and Michael wouldn't have been surprised if he meant for more than the hot drink. 

 

"Don't mention it," Michael said, setting his mug on the ground and pulling a dark green blanket around his shoulders. 

 

Jeremy blew air over the surface of his cocoa, even though it was pretty much completely covered in half-melted marshmallows. When he looked up, his eyes connected with Michael's. 

 

"I don't know where to start," he said sincerely. 

 

"Wherever you want to." 

 

Jeremy seemed to think. Then he seemed to deliberate. Then he seemed to make to his mind. 

 

"Can I show you something?" he said, voice serious, eyes a little unsure. Michael nodded. 

 

Jeremy took a steeling breath, then set his untouched cocoa on the ground and shifted until he was facing away from Michael. He let the blanket fall and pool on the ground. Then he shrugged off his cardigan. After a final pause, he pulled his t-shirt over his head. 

 

Michael didn't see it at first. For a moment he wondered why Jeremy was showing him his back. Then he leaned a little closer and felt dread pool in his stomach. 

 

Stemming from the base of Jeremy's neck and branching down and across his shoulder blades was a fractal pattern of raised lines. Scars in the shape of lightning. 

 

Michael's breath caught in his throat and his hand stretched out before he could think not to. Jeremy bristled as his fingertips lightly brushed the raised skin, but didn't pull away. Michael retracted his hand quickly, regardless. Jeremy turned back around, pulling his shirt back over his head but not bothering to put his cardigan back on. Instead he just wrapped himself tightly in his blanket. 

 

"He... It would shock me," Jeremy said, slowly. "If I slouched. If I stuttered. If I, uh, tried to masturbate. Or did, um, pretty much anything it didn't like." 

 

Michael was silent. Jeremy met his eyes for a moment, then looked away and swallowed. 

 

"And at first, you know, I was so relieved that it was gone--that I wouldn't have to worry about feeling so terrified all of the time about screwing up and saying, doing the wrong thing--that I didn't notice the scars until later. And then I realized I was still expecting pain every time I did one of the things it used to shock me for." 

 

Michael didn't know what to say. He knew Jeremy was still messed up about the SQUIP. How could he not be? The voice in Michael's head that told him he wasn't good enough was bad enough as it was. Jeremy's had been real. It thought and sometimes even acted independently of him. It was like having a bully implanted directly into your brain. There was no way that could be healthy. But to find out that it physically hurt him, enough to leave scars on his skin, the sadness Michael felt for him was indescribable. 

 

"I mean," Jeremy continued, his voice suddenly nervous. "It wasn't that bad. The shocking. Like, it hurt for a second and then it was over. But I guess it was more the anticipation, or..." 

 

Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand. He looked up at him, surprised, almost scared. Michael opened his mouth, but words failed him. He closed it. Something in his expression must have conveyed his feelings though, because after a moment, Jeremy relaxed. Michael squeezed his hand and Jeremy's mouth quirked into a sad smile. 

 

"Anyway," he said, looking away. "I know I've been jumpy and stuff lately. So. Sorry about that." 

 

Michael squeezed his hand again. 

 

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," he said, his voice suddenly tight. Jeremy looked at him, guilt evident in his eyes. 

 

"I do though," he said, his eyes flitting nervously across Michael's face. "I was awful to you. I. You've been... for so long... and I." 

 

Jeremy's face scrunched up and he let go of Michael's hand to swipe the heel of his palm across his eyelids. Michael felt himself choke up. 

 

"I'm so sorry," he said, "for pushing you aside. And saying terrible things to you. And. I took you for granted. I should have never taken you for granted." 

 

A quiet sob escaped him and Michael took his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. Jeremy's eyes opened, wide and glistening and already red from the earlier anxiety attack. 

 

"It's not your fault." 

 

Jeremy leaned forward earnestly. 

 

"It is," he said, urgency in his voice. 

 

"It's not." 

 

"It--" 

 

"Stop it," Michael said firmly. Jeremy flinched back, making Michael want to cry more than ever. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." 

 

Jeremy bowed his head, embarrassed. 

 

"It's OK." 

 

For a moment, neither said anything. Michael realized he was still holding onto Jeremy's wrists and immediately released them, not wanting to give Jeremy any idea about him holding power over him. Jeremy didn't move, so they sat there, in their lame blanket fort, arms touching between them, for several long seconds. 

 

"I had a panic attack, that night at Jake's party," Michael admitted. "Like you just had, but, without the hyperventilating." 

 

Jeremy's eyes went wide. 

 

"But I don't blame you," he said, with a nervous laugh. "The SQUIP might not have been on then, but it still wasn't you. I thought it was, for a while, but then your dad came to talk to me and I realized that you were hurting. You were being manipulated and used. And especially now, I can't find it in me to say that it was your fault." 

 

Jeremy grabbed Michael's hands suddenly, lacing their fingers together. 

 

"That doesn't mean it's not. My fault, I mean. Especially early on... Michael I let it block you from my vision. For weeks. Willingly." 

 

Michael ducked his head. He'd figured something like that had happened. After all, the party hadn't been his first attempt to get through to Jeremy. But it was still hard to hear. Suddenly one of Jeremy's hands was in his hair, combing gently through the short, dark, strands. 

 

"You're always looking out for me, Mike. And I took it for granted. I always take it for granted. You always listen to me complain, and support me, and push me to do the things I can't do on my own. And I treat you like shit. I threw away twelve years of friendship for a girl I barely knew and some temporary popularity which won't mean a thing in a couple of years." 

 

Michael stared at the hand that was still laced through his own and tried not to lose himself in the sensation of Jeremy's fingers combing through his hair. 

 

"It's not your fault I wasn't enough," Michael said quietly. 

 

Jeremy froze, then he moved and was suddenly gripping Michael's shoulders. 

 

"Look at me," he said. Michael did as he was told, and was met with the most decisive expression he had seen on Jeremy's features in years. It was as if he had transformed back into that tiny confident kid, back before middle school and high school and all of the fear and confusion that came with them. 

 

"You were always enough," he said. Michael felt his eyes sting. He tried to lower his head, but Jeremy followed. "I wanted a girlfriend. I wanted people to like me. I wanted dicks to stop picking on me. I never wanted to replace you." 

 

Michael said nothing. He was supposed to be the one making Jeremy feel better damnit. 

 

"You're the best thing in my life, understand?" When Michael remained silent, Jeremy pushed his chin up gently. "Understand?" 

 

He nodded quickly, then pulled away, crossing his arms and curling in on himself. He wanted to kiss him. That urge always overtook Michael at the worst moments. The desire made him want to cry even more, but he kept swallowing back the tears. 

 

"Michael?" Michael nodded so that Jeremy would know he was listening. So that he wouldn't touch him again. "You can cry. It's OK. You're always pretending stuff doesn't mess you up, even around me. You always help me. Let me help you for once." 

 

Suddenly Michael was crying into his hands, still curled in on himself. He couldn't even remember the last time he cried in front of another person. Elementary school, he supposed. It was terrifying to be so vulnerable. Even to Jeremy. Especially to Jeremy. The one person who mattered. 

 

Jeremy touched Michael's foot gently, but made no other move to embrace him, for which Michael was grateful. He didn't cry for long, and though he probably would have gone on a bit longer had he been alone, he still felt a sense of relief. 

 

He took a shuddering breath and removed his hands from his face, cringing at the sticky feeling on his hands. 

 

"Should have brought the tissues in with us," Michael joked as he resurfaced. Jeremy laughed, his own eyes red and face stained with tears. "We're really messed up." 

 

"God, we are," Jeremy said, his shoulders shaking. "Hold on a second." 

 

Jeremy ducked out the other side of the fort. Michael watched his legs as he walked over to the bed and then came back, crawling inside with a different box of tissues than the one Michael had found earlier. He offered it to Michael, who took one gratefully and cleaned his hands and face of excess fluids. 

 

Speaking of fluids... 

 

"Dude, this is the box of tissues you keep by your bed." 

 

Jeremy's face flushed. Michael snorted. 

 

"Hey, it's been months since I've..." Jeremy protested. He cringed and stopped short. "Nevermind." 

 

Michael's eyebrows shot up. 

 

"Months since you've..." He felt a little weird poking around in this area, but it never used to be much of a stigma for them. They watched porn together for the first time when they were in middle school and Jeremy's libido had always been something Michael felt little shame poking fun at. He was even pretty sure that he'd called Jeremy in the middle of jerking it once or twice in the past. 

 

"It didn't like it," Jeremy said awkwardly. Michael remembered him mentioning earlier that masturbation was one of the things the SQUIP shocked him for. Yeah that was... probably not good. "I guess it was just another incentive for getting with an actual girl." 

 

Jeremy laughed, playing it off like it was just another joke about his probably abnormally high sex-drive. Michael didn't find it so funny. But it was just one of a number of issues he would somehow have to help Jeremy through from now on. 

 

"Speaking of actual girls..." Michael started. "Rich told me Christine broke up with you. I'm really sorry man." 

 

Jeremy shrugged, but didn't look as broken up about it as Michael expected. 

 

"Technically, I broke up with her," Jeremy said softly. 

 

Michael gaped. That seemed to make Jeremy nervous again, so he pushed back the surprise and forced himself to seem more casually inquisitive, and less like he did. Which was, at the moment, torn between interrogating him and strangling him. 

 

"Dude, why? You've been after her for like, forever." 

 

Jeremy shrugged again. 

 

"She wasn't happy," he said. "She told me at Jake's party that she wasn't ready to date anyone. And then the whole play thing happened and suddenly she was agreeing to go out with me. Nothing changed between us in that time. I don't know why I didn't see it then, but she still wasn't ready. Having a SQUIP made her realize that she wanted things to be easy, and I guess agreeing to go out with me seemed like the easiest thing to do." 

 

Michael ached for his friend. He knew what it was like. Loving someone who didn't love you back. 

 

"And she just, told you all of this?" he asked. Jeremy nodded. 

 

"I mean, it took a while to drag it all out from her. But once it was out there, I couldn't keep letting her try to make herself love me. That was the opposite of what I wanted." 

 

The urge to kiss him again was strong. Michael ignored it. Again. The worst moments. 

 

"That's... Jeremy. That sucks. Are you OK?" 

 

Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. 

 

"Yeah," he said eventually. "I think I am. I sort of became obsessed with her before I even really knew her. And dating her wasn't everything I'd built it up to be. Like, don't get me wrong, I think she's great. And I'm really excited to be her friend and get to know her. But I don't think there's going to be anything there, even once we do know each other better." 

 

Michael nodded, somewhat dumbfounded. He'd been hearing about Christine ever since they started high school. And then all of the SQUIP business and they'd even dated for a few weeks... It was a lot to process. 

 

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Michael asked, trying to mask the hurt in his voice with concern. It was Jeremy's life. He decided who to tell what to and when. Michael kept telling himself that, but even so, the knowledge that he trusted Rich and probably the rest of his new friends with that and not him stung. 

 

Jeremy winced. 

 

"I was scared. We went through all of that... stuff so that I could have a chance with Christine. And then I just gave up. I thought you might..." 

 

"Be mad?" Jeremy's expression answered that. "Dude." 

 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." 

 

Michael shoved him gently. 

 

"Stop apologizing," he said lightly, regretting it when Jeremy's face twitched. He really had to make sure he didn't say direct commands anymore. Those obviously set him off. 

 

"There's actually one more thing I have to apologize for," Jeremy said. "Then I'm done, I swear." 

 

Michael sighed. 

 

"Fine," he said. Jeremy wrapped his blanket tightly around him, squirming uncomfortably for a moment. 

 

"I ignored you. After I got back from the hospital. And Christine and I started dating. I was scared that you didn't want to see me and that I wouldn't know how to do..." he gestured broadly, "this, again. So I pretended I was more busy than I was and I spent more time trying to figure out how to say I was sorry than actually saying it. So. I'm sorry." 

 

Michael felt some hidden anxiety dissipate within him. He had been worrying, ever since Jeremy was back to normal, that he didn't want to see him. That his other friends were better. That Jeremy had finally made himself happy and that that happiness didn't include him. Hearing from him that the period of radio static after the play wasn't because Michael wasn't good enough, took an insurmountable weight off of his chest. 

 

He suddenly realized that Jeremy was looking at him with uncertainty, waiting for him to say something. 

 

Fuck he wanted to kiss him. 

 

"Thank you," he said instead, smiling kindly "for apologizing and being honest and shit." 

 

Jeremy's hand came to rest on the side of Michael's chest, fingers curling over his shoulders. 

 

"You get it though, right? That I messed up?" 

 

Michael laughed. 

 

"Yeah. I guess you did. And you get that I forgive you?" 

 

After a moment, Jeremy nodded. Michael sighed, suddenly exhausted. His eyes fell on the mug of hot chocolate that was probably warm chocolate by then. It was mostly for Jeremy when he made it, but now it was significantly more appealing. He picked it up and took a cautious sip, pleased to find that it had cooled enough that it wasn't burning, but also hadn't yet gone cold. 

 

He took a long drink, then glanced over to see Jeremy doing the same. Jeremy looked wrecked. Between the puffy eyes, messy hair and absolute exhaustion in his expression, he was pretty much a disaster. Michael couldn't imagine he looked a whole lot better. 

 

Jeremy put down his player 2 mug and looked back at Michael. He snorted, and Michael figured he was realizing what a mess they both were as well. Then he leaned over and wiped something off of the tip of Michael's nose. He showed Michael the smear of melted marshmallow on his thumb, then brought it to his mouth, almost kissing it off. 

 

Michael started at his lips for longer than he usually would allow himself, swallowing. Jeremy always did shit like that. Stuff that made Michael want to lose it. It must have been all of the time spent apart that was making it affect him so much. 

 

He shoved the feeling down and brought his mug to his mouth again, grumbling internally. 

 

"God I missed you," Jeremy said suddenly, his voice raw with emotion. 

 

Michael almost choked on his cocoa, swallowing quickly and coughing into his arm. Jeremy patted him on the back. When Michael managed to spare him a glance, he looked mildly uncomfortable and like he was somewhat regretting what he just said. 

 

"'I missed you too," Michael choked out, when he stopped dying. Jeremy relaxed marginally. Then he was taking Michael's mug from him and putting it off to the side with his own. He opened his arms, somewhat awkwardly and Michael rolled his eyes before crawling closer. 

 

"This is gay," he said, ignoring the irony as Jeremy pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. Jeremy grunted, but otherwise didn't acknowledge Michael's comment, electing instead to bury his face in Michael's neck. 

 

Michael shut his eyes tightly, suppressing a shudder as Jeremy's breath drifted across his skin. He shouldn't be doing this. He never let himself do this. Jeremy was tactile. Michael was too, but Jeremy didn't know that. He never let these things go on for long, deciding it was better that Jeremy thought all the touching made him uncomfortable, rather than the truth. It hurt, sure, but for a different reason. 

 

Michael didn't pull away though, and Jeremy didn't let go. And when Jeremy started lightly tracing his fingers up and down Michael's back, it was all he could do not to let out a whine. They were so close. Physically, emotionally. He only wished they could be even more so. 

 

It was Jeremy who pulled back, finally. Michael leaned back, but didn't move to get off of him, letting his hands rest lightly on his chest. Jeremy's hands sagged to Michael's waist. 

 

Yeah this was really gay. 

 

"You never let me hug you that long," Jeremy said, brushing it off with an awkward laugh. Michael smiled, trying to come off as casual and relaxed, but knowing immediately that it was uncharacteristically tense. 

 

"Are you alright dude?" Jeremy asked. Michael let his head dip, hiding slightly from him. His fingers curled lightly in Jeremy's shirt. 

 

"Please don't cry again," Jeremy said, his voice suddenly broken. "I mean you can. If you want to. But if you cry I'm probably going to cry and, uh, I think I'm a little cried out. But like, if you need to it's really OK and--" 

 

"Jeremy." 

 

Beat. 

 

"Michael." 

 

Michael found himself staring into those big light brown eyes. Always wide and nervous. His eyebrows always drawn as he overthought everything. The moles cast across his pale skin. The straight ridge of his nose. The soft pink, cracked skin of his lips. 

 

"I--" he started, but even if he knew what he had been about to say, he would never have finished it, because suddenly Jeremy was leaning forward. 

 

And Jeremy kissed him. 

 

Michael was stiff with surprise, his brain barely even processing what was happening. Certainly not quickly enough for him to react before Jeremy abruptly jerked back. 

 

"Oh god," he said, immediately going into panic mode. "Oh god I'm so sorry Michael. I didn't mean to—but I. And..." 

 

He trailed off when he saw the huge smile plastered on Michael's face. He made this little noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a whine and a sigh of relief as he visibly relaxed. Michael closed his hand around the fabric of Jeremy's shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him back as he'd wanted to for years. It was awkward. Michael had never kissed anyone before, and Jeremy's experience was limited, but it didn't matter. Suddenly Michael was out of breath, so he reluctantly pulled away. He pressed their foreheads together, hands still clenched in Jeremy's shirt. Jeremy's hands still resting on his waist. There was a moment of silence. 

 

"Gay..." Michael said suddenly. Jeremy snorted. Then he laughed. Then they were both laughing as if they hadn't laughed in years. Michael leaned against Jeremy, his brain still not quite processing the situation. Jeremy kissed him. Jeremy... kissed him? Jeremy was straight. What? Everything confusing was suddenly funny. In a stupid, wonderful way. 

 

And then Jeremy was kissing him again, hands suddenly on the sides of his head. It was brief, but when they parted, Michael felt giddy. 

 

"Sorry," Jeremy said. 

 

"I thought you were done apologizing," Michael teased. Jeremy smiled sheepishly and Michael laughed. A minute later though, they were both sober. 

 

"Do we have to talk about this?" Jeremy asked, reluctance in his voice. Michael could totally see why. He sighed. 

 

"Yeah," he said, running a hand through his own hair. "But honestly, if we talk any more feelings right now my brain's probably going to explode." 

 

Jeremy laughed. 

 

"Me too." 

 

Michael reluctantly removed himself from Jeremy's lap and reached over for his cocoa. This time it was cold. 

 

"I vote we finish this and then take a nap," he declared. Jeremy reached for his own drink. 

 

"Seconded." Jeremy raised his mug and Michael knocked his against it. They downed the rest of their drinks quickly, then Jeremy took them and shoved them far outside of the fort. It took them a moment to rearrange the blankets and pillows, and then themselves. And then they were lying on their sides, facing each other. Jeremy stared at Michael for a moment, then laughed and reached over to remove his glasses. 

 

"Oh. Right," Michael said as the world became blurry. The shape that was Jeremy only moments ago left the fort briefly to presumably put them somewhere safe, then returned, and burrowed under the blanket with Michael. 

 

Michael felt Jeremy's ankle against his socked toe and nudged it. Jeremy hooked his foot around Michael's and suddenly they were linked together. Michael took Jeremy's hand and laced their fingers together, his other arm under the pillow beneath his head. He could feel his eyelids start to droop and let them. 

 

"Mike?" Michael hummed. "I... you're my favorite." 

 

Michael opened his eyes again. He couldn't see the expression on Jeremy's face very well, but even so he knew that it would be anxious and open. Just like Jeremy. 

 

"That's good news," Michael said, letting his eyes fall closed. "Because you're mine." 

 

It was a Friday. So if they slept a few hours, or until the next morning, it didn't really matter. And when they did wake up, they would have to talk. About the past, and the future. And what they were. But in those last moments of consciousness, only one thought echoed in Michael's head. 

 

Michael loved Jeremy Heere. In the romantic sense, yes, but also so much more. And it seemed as though he was loved in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus these chapters keep getting longer and longer. 
> 
> So, this is sort of supposed to be the end of the story, but now I don't think I'll be able to not write an epilogue? I'm not entirely sure. If it is, it's not going to be them talking over their feelings because tbh I think we've all had quite enough of that. I am a sucker for some sad kids though. Talking about feelings and... such. 
> 
> Yeah I went into this not having any clue what was going to happen so this is what did I guess?
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed it. Keep an eye out for an epilogue?


	4. Epilogue

"Michael it's going to be fine," Jeremy said, his hands a reassuring weight on his boyfriend's shoulders. 

 

"I know," Michael lied. 

 

"Dude, you're freaking out." 

 

"Am not..." 

 

Jeremy gave him a dead look. He deflated. 

 

"Okay so maybe I'm freaking out a little." 

 

Jeremy sighed and Michael's insides twisted. He knew that he should just trust Jeremy with this one. And he knew that he was probably annoying him with all of his reluctance and nervousness. And he knew that Jeremy was probably going to get sick of babysitting him all of the time and leave to hang out with his real friends. And that he probably never loved him in the first place and that he would be a loner until he died. 

 

"Michael?" Jeremy's eyebrows knit in concern. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Seriously. We can wait until tomorrow, or next week. Or if you don't want to do it, we don't have to. Like ever. I mean. I'd like to spend time with them, but that doesn't mean you have to and I'm sure I could figure out..." 

 

Something inside of Michael relaxed. He felt a little guilty for thinking it, but it was always a little reassuring to be reminded that Jeremy freaked out about random stuff just as much as he did. In a weird way, comforting him was one of the things that calmed Michael down the most. 

 

So when Michael said "No, I want to," it wasn't a lie. 

 

"I'm just..." _scared as balls._

 

"Nervous?" Jeremy supplied. Michael nodded. "There's nothing to be nervous about. They're all really nice people and I know that they're going to love you. I mean, yeah Chloe can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, and Rich is still learning how to work through his aggression, but they're all actually cool. And not in the... robot way. In the video games and junk food on a Saturday way." 

 

Michael took a deep breath. 

 

"What if they don't like me though?" he winced at how whiney he sounded. But Jeremy did always say he wanted Michael to be honest with this feelings. "What if I'm not... cool enough?" 

 

Jeremy's fingers tightened around Michael's shoulders as he fixed his shorter boyfriend with an intense stare. 

 

"Dude," he said, his voice serious. "you're as cool as a vintage cassette." 

 

A moment passed, then Michael burst into laughter. Jeremy's deadpan broke and he chuckled as well. 

 

"I can't believe you remember that," Michael said, snorting. Jeremy flat out giggled and Michael had to resist the urge to kiss him right there. Sure, they were dating and Jeremy had assured Michael that his friends would be nothing but supportive of their relationship, but they were at school and kids could be cruel. 

 

Silence fell between them and Michael felt the nerves slowly return to his stomach. He took a steeling breath. 

 

"I'm ready," he said, glancing up at Jeremy who returned a reassuring smile. He nodded and let his hands drop from Michael's shoulders as they started towards the cafeteria. 

 

"Jeremy!" Christine stood up from a table off to the side of the wide room and waved exuberantly. Michael had to applaud her for her enthusiasm. He wouldn't be able to be anywhere near that excited to see an ex-boyfriend, especially only a few weeks after breaking up. Especially when the ex moved on to another relationship only a week after breaking up. Though from what Jeremy had told him, their short-lived relationship had been comprised mostly of nerding out over musicals, doing friend things or hanging out with the rest of the people at the table. 

 

Michael took a deep breath and allowed his face to relax into a casual smile. He was surprised to see that as they approached the table, everyone seemed happy to see them. Though it was probably because of Jeremy. 

 

"Hey guys," Jeremy said, waving in a much more reserved manner. Christine nudged Jenna and they scooted over, making room for Michael and Jeremy on the bench. Jeremy sat next to Christine, putting Michael (thankfully) on the edge and (less thankfully, though if pressed for a better option, he wouldn't be able to say who he would have prefered) directly across from Rich. 

 

"Hey, it's headphones," Jake said, nodding his chin up in acknowledgment. Michael gave a little wave, then felt stupid. 

 

"Hi Michael!" Christine said, leaning forward to catch his eye around Jeremy. "It's so weird that we've never actually met! I mean, Jeremy talks about you all the time and it's like I already know you, but I don't! Isn't that funny? I think it's funny. You know what else is funny? Jeremy showed me a picture of you on his phone and you were wearing that sweatshirt with the patches and now you're wearing the same sweatshirt. But that's not the funny part. I mean I guess it could be funny to someone because sometimes coincidences are funny but usually when someone says that a coincidence is funny they mean that it's odd and not that it's something you'd actually laugh at. What was I saying?" 

 

She stopped abruptly and looked at Michael expectantly. He shrugged, dumbfounded and incredibly intrigued with how many words Christine could cram into such a short period of time and how little she seemed to breathe between them. 

 

"Oh right! The patches! I was looking through Etsy the other day because I really like it and you can find so many cool things made by so many different people and then I started wondering if people sold patches on Etsy because Jeremy said that he wanted you and I to become friends and if we're going to be friends I need to make sure I have ideas for birthday presents and Christmas presents because once it gets close to someone's birthday or Christmas (or Chanukah. I can't believe I forgot Chanukah! I'm sorry Jeremy) then I never know what to get someone unless I already know so anyway I looked to see if they had patches and they did! And there were lots of really cool ones like zodiac signs and aliens and flowers and the ghostbuster's logo and then! I saw a bunch of patches for service dogs that said 'Please don't pet me I'm working' and I thought, wouldn't it be funny if I got one of those patches for Michael to put on his hoodie? So I bookmarked it so that the next time your birthday or Christmas or Chanukah happens I can order one for you but I guess now I just told you and it wouldn't really be a surprise. I'm so sorry I ruined the surprise." 

 

Suddenly Christine was sad and Michael was confused as all hell. 

 

"Christine, it's OK. Michael will love it anyway," Jeremy said, stifling a laugh as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Michael shook himself out of his shock and leaned forward to get a better look at Christine who now looked close to tears. 

 

"Heck yeah I will!" he said, using the same enthusiastic tone he used to cheer up Jeremy. "I'll even pretend that I didn't know already, so it still feels like a surprise." 

 

That seemed to cheer her up and before Michael could blink, she was launching into another long, convoluted thought about surprises. Michael and Jeremy made eye contact. However dazed Michael felt must have shown on his face because Jeremy gave him a knowing grin. 

 

"I don't blame you dude," Michael whispered, once Christine's attention had shifted to Brooke and how cute her top was. "I'm gay and I'm a little bit in love with her." 

 

Jeremy laughed. Michael took out his 7-Eleven turkey sandwich. Hey, it's not like he could afford to eat sushi everyday, no matter how low quality. 

 

"Nice patch," Rich said, just as Michael was about to take a bite. He paused, following Rich's finger to the rainbow flag on the side of his arm. 

 

"Thanks," he said skeptically, taking a bite of his sandwich. Rich had made plenty of homophobic jokes towards him and Jeremy in the past. Granted, he was under quite an influence when he did, but forgive Michael if he was going to tread lightly around the guy who one wrote "homo" on Jeremy's arm when he fell asleep in class. 

 

"That actually wouldn't be a bad place for a tattoo like that," Rich continued, giving the patch a thoughtful look. "Maybe I should get a bisexual flag tattoo." 

 

Rich glanced at his own arm and deflated slightly. 

 

"Ah," he said dismissively. "They probably can't tattoo over scar tissue anyway." 

 

Michael blinked. He watched as Jake put a comforting arm around Rich's shoulders and mussed his hair. Rich's face scrunched up, but his attempts at suppressing a smile failed. 

 

"Stop it, man," he said, laughing. "You're ruining my image." 

 

Jake snorted. 

 

"Yeah, well you're ruining my happy with your pessimism," he said, letting Rich swat his hand away so that he could fix his hair. "Let's do some research after school. I know you always wanted sleeves. Maybe there's still a shot." 

 

For a moment, Rich and Jake seemed lost in their own little world. Then the moment passed and Rich glanced at Jake's arm which was still slung around his shoulders. Jake immediately removed it with a little awkward cough into his hand. 

 

So maybe Rich wasn't as put-together as Michael thought. 

 

"Are they dating?" Michael whispered to Jeremy. 

 

"Not yet," Jeremy said with a little laugh. 

 

Rich glared at them and Michael suspected they hadn't been as quiet as he thought. Woops. At least Jake seemed not to have heard, his attention shifted to the scene next to him where Brooke and Chloe were suddenly in a passionate embrace. Rich glanced over and wolf-whistled. Chloe flipped him off without breaking, but Brooke pushed her away quickly, her face flushed. 

 

"But I'm guessing they are," Michael said. Jeremy nodded, his own face a little red. 

 

Michael ate his sandwich thoughtfully as the group fell into a discussion about PDA. It was weird to admit, but he actually didn't feel terrible sitting here with these people. From a distance, they seemed like shiny, flawless beings. Unreachable. Sometimes cruel. But up close, they were just people. They had quirks and issues and interests, just like him and Jeremy. He was actually... excited to get to know them. 

 

Jeremy nudged him. 

 

"You OK?" he said suddenly, his voice nervous. "You're being sort of quiet." 

 

Michael took his hand under the table. 

 

"More than OK," he said, squeezing his hand. Jeremy relaxed and Michael wondered just how much Jeremy had been freaking out about him meeting the rest of the gang as well. 

 

"Everyone lean in," Jenna announced suddenly, standing. "We're taking a selfie to commemorate the newest addition to our lunch squad." 

 

Apparently, this wasn't up for discussion, because everyone moved into place as Jenna angled her phone. She directed a few adjustments, telling Jake to lean back because he was too tall and Michael to lean in because Jeremy was blocking him and Rich to stop doing stupid things with his hands they could take a silly one later thank you very much. 

 

The bell rang almost instantly after Jenna declared she was satisfied and Michael was surprised to find that he didn't actually want to go. He wrapped up the remains of his lunch in the plastic shopping bag he brought it in and stood, following Jeremy to the trash can. 

 

"So," Jeremy said nervously, once they were out of earshot of the rest of the group. "What did you think?" 

 

Michael pretended to think it over. 

 

"I don't know Jere..." he said. He glanced at Jeremy, whose face fell and immediately regretted it. 

 

"I'm teasing," Michael said quickly. "They're actually pretty awesome." 

 

Jeremy's face lit up and Michael's heart melted a little. 

 

"This is so great! I'm so excited for us to all do stuff together and hang out. We don't have to eat lunch with them every day, but we should add you to the group chat and you should talk to Jenna about all the documentaries you watch because she's totally into that kind of thing and... you're looking at me funny." 

 

Michael laughed as they came to a stop in front of his English class. 

 

"You're cute," he said. Jeremy flushed and Michael laughed again at how easy it was to fluster him. "And I like your friends." 

 

"Well hopefully soon you'll consider them yours too." Jeremy took his hand and squeezed it. It was a nice thought. Michael couldn't help but hope for the same. "I'll see you after class?" 

 

"You know where to find me." 

 

Jeremy smiled. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then leaned down and quickly pressed a kiss to Michael's lips before immediately pulling away, apologizing, and running off. 

 

Michael stared at his back as he disappeared into the swarm of students, then snorted. _Dork,_ he thought, turning and heading to class. 

 

So maybe this wasn't a heinous day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Christine oh my god. 
> 
> So yay! I finished a multi-chapter. Even though it's only four chapters. And one is an epilogue. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this! I really liked writing it. This might not be my only BMC fic? So if you liked it, keep an eye out for a one-shot or two? Maybe. Not quite sure yet.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for the super sweet comments and stuff. I really really appreciate all of the nice things people have said about this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been obsessed with this musical over the past couple of days and fell in love with all of the characters. This fic shouldn't be too long (just a couple of chapters) and there's not much of a complicated plot to it. It's mostly just how I feel the characters would act and react to each other post-SQUIP. Sorry if I don't finish it! Hope you enjoy. :)


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